There’s something raw about it. Something completely carnal about watching her release like that while I’m still inside her, feeling every second of it. Didn’t think this would be my thing. But here we are. And now I’m realizing I might like her urinating on me a whole lot more than a grown man probably should.
“Fuck, that’s sexy,” I groan, grabbing the shower head, rinsing her legs and myself off, never once pulling out of her. She places the test on the ledge beside us, and I shut off the water, and then I’m back at it—driving into her, making her ass bounce off the walls, just like the first night we had sex in the shower.
The test blinks in my periphery, calculating our future but I don’t pay it any mind.
“Gabriel—I’m gonna come,” she cries, her body bowing against me.
“Me too, sweetheart. Say your husband’s name when you do.”
Her breathing comes out in soft gasps. “Show me the test. Please.”
I hesitate for only a second before snatching it off the ledge and turning it toward her so that she can see it first. I don’t even see what it says—I only see her.That’s the only thing that’s ever mattered to me. Not whether she can have a baby or not, just her.
The moment she registers it, her body shatters.Tears spill down her cheeks, her abs clench, and her pussy squeezes me so tightly I see stars when she reaches her climax.
“Gabriel,” she sobs, her orgasm wrecking her. It wrecks me too as she pulls me under with her, collapsing in my arms.
I hold her up, my body locking as my release takes over, planting myself deep inside her womb, my cock jerking, spilling freely. And at the last second, I glance down—Two lines. With a single word, blinking beside them.
Pregnant.
Chapter 39 – Epilogue: Alessia
"Pass me the buns please, sweetheart."
I hand them over without looking up, mostly because I already know what's going to happen if I look up, and I have a very limited ability to behave myself around this man when he's standing in front of a grill in the summer heat looking like that.
I look up anyway.
He's flipping burgers with one hand, and when he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, he reveals those abs I had my mouth on approximately an hour ago, and my body responds with an enthusiasm that I'm going to blame entirely on the first trimester hormones currently running my life.
God, he’s so sexy.
I’llneverget sick of this view and my obsession with him has become even worse with the pregnancy hormones kicking in. Ican’t keep my hands off him every day. Not that he’s seemed to mind.
Wordlessly, I hand him the unopened pack of buns. He bends down to press a quick kiss to the top of my head.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
I press my lips together to keep from smiling too wide.
Five months ago, I sat in a bar in Manhattan thinking this man was someone else entirely, and somehow that miscalculation led me here. To his backyard. To this life. To a Tuesday afternoon cookout in July where I know every person's name and they know mine and nobody's leaving early because there's nowhere else that they'd rather be but together.
I spent so long being convinced that this would never be available to me. Not the family, not the belonging, not the man who makes me feel so safe. I was wrong about a lot of things.
“You two make me sick,” Rhiannon teases, stepping up beside me with a squeeze and her youngest cradled in her arms. Her tone is playful, but her eyes are soft, filled with something warm like she’s happy to see her brother and I together.
“Want to hold him?” she asks, lifting her newest addition to their family, Abel Gabriel Prescott.
I take him without hesitation, settling him against my chest, his small warm weight fitting there like it was designed to. He doesn't stir. Just tucks in, lets out one of those little baby yawns, and goes back to whatever very serious dream he's having.
Something moves through me, slow and full, like warm water filling a glass. I grew up an only child. No siblings, no cousins close by, no built-in village. It was me and my grandmother and a mother who lived her life in a different direction, and I made my peace with that a long time ago. But I didn't know what I was missing until I walked through Rhiannon's purple front door one winter evening with a margarita in my handand a lot of walls up and somehow ended up with all of this.
Aunt to Piper, who is currently trying to teach Cain's dog a trick that the dog has no interest in learning. Aunt to Abel, who is asleep on my chest smelling like everything good in the world. Sister to Eden, who texts me photos of her design work daily. Sister to Rhiannon, who saw straight through me from the first night and loved me anyway.
We haven't told anyone outside of our immediate family that we’re pregnant yet. It's early. We're being careful with it, holding it close before we let the rest of the world know. But I know. And he knows. And when I look up from Abel's sleeping face and find Gabriel watching me from across the grill with that expression he gets, steady and warm and like I'm the only fixed point in his whole field of vision, I think he's thinking the same thing I am.
We're going to be okay. More than okay.
